Hard Time for a Free Mind, by Charles Carreon
Yes it is a whole new fashion,
They call it lama-trashin'
buddha-bashin'
sangha-lashin'
Well it busted outta downtown
where the old school gets down
Now it's takin' over schoolyards
'cause the beat is really very hard
Because goodness is held hostage
In the principal's office
The nice teachers eat crap
while the mean ones sit and talk smack
Somebody had to get down
and make at least one real sound
At the risk of doing hard time
they talk about a free mind
You can't expect a wannabe
to cover your back
And ya' can't trust a goody-boy
ta' even keep a secret
So we have to break it down,
Have to make a tough sound
Then they know that you mean it,
Don't have to plan, you just release it,
An infinite cry
Like a baby bein' born
Gonna signal to the others
By burnin' down the cornfield
Tonight.
Slavery's over children!
Please report to the assembly hall to meet Mr. Lincoln!